


Bottoms Up

by kolibris



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Drunken Idiocy, Gen, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 20:39:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kolibris/pseuds/kolibris
Summary: Akira’s drink hoarding has gone too far.





	Bottoms Up

**Author's Note:**

> **Ultimate Amazake** : Makes you think you’re drunk. Restores 20 HP to one ally.

Makoto knows she isn’t the most fun person around. She can’t “cut loose”, “go crazy”, she eats sensible breakfasts and goes to bed at nine o’clock. That’s just how she’s had to be for a long time.

She is, however, quickly finding out that her teammates don’t seem to have this problem.

“Panther,” she says gravely to Ann’s butt, bobbing around like a bright red buoy and flopping her weird tail everywhere. 

Ann stops mashing her face into the couch long enough to look up with a dopey smile. “Queeeeeeeeeen—” she can barely get through the giggles, “—get it? I’m a little kitty-cat, meeeeeeeoooow!”

Makoto should really do something. She’s their team advisor now, their senpai, for god’s sake, she’s responsible for them, even for Yusuke, who—oh, he’s down now too, laid himself out on the floor. Of course he would keep a pocket sketchbook on him, although his choice in subject is questionable. Even if Akira is dramatically thrown across a couch, it doesn’t make it artistic.

“ _Yes_ ,” Yusuke slurs, “this must be divine inspiration… my hand, it won’t stop moving!” His low chuckle turns into an excited yell when Akira kicks up a long leg and drapes an arm across his face and Yusuke scribbles wildly on the pad and this is just a mess. Makoto is sure he can’t even stay on the paper but hand-eye coordination is the least of their problems right now.

Ann doesn’t care, she’s rolling around on her couch and cracking herself up, and Makoto’s tempted to laugh too, probably will once the latent insanity kicks in. There’s no way they can progress through the bank like this. And they had prepared so hard, and she was so ready to sock Kaneshiro right in that creepy moustache, and—

Actually, it was the preparation that was their undoing, wasn’t it?

She was shocked when she saw Akira’s schoolbag overstuffed with drink cans, even more so when saw that everyone else _wasn’t_. That was it, that was when she should have intervened, but it was hard to argue with the convenience of popping a soda whenever she felt her energy flag. As it turns out, that happens a lot when the Metaverse is full of fifteen-foot-tall Onis taking a club to her face.

No, wait, she should have said something when everyone but her kept grabbing amazake, but what could they do when there was cans upon cans of the stuff? It was too sweet for her taste and buzzed weird in her mouth, so she thought nothing of giving hers to Ann and sticking with whatever else was left. And Akira just looked so proud of himself, boasted about his summer clearance sale shopping skills and how it’d save their Personas from doing the healing. How resourceful, she had thought, like a total idiot.

“Heeeeey, are you listening to me?” Ann’s reaching out, tugging on her suit. “Queen, you’re being no fun, play along.” She wiggles her butt again and Makoto needs to look away. “Pet the kitty.”

She pries the empty can out of Ann’s hand. “Okay, no more of this! We need to go home now. We can come back… tomorrow.” If they even make it out of here.

“I don’t wanna move,” Ann says. She cups her hands to her mouth. “MONA! CAR!”

“He had just as much as you did, he can’t—oh god, even the car is drunk,” Makoto says, and she doesn’t even know where he _is_ , and she hates this day. The can slowly crumples in the force of her fist.

She’s putting in a motion to ban this garbage from Shujin first thing tomorrow. This is unacceptable, an adult drink allowed in their vending machines, right under her nose the whole time. She tosses the can aside, ignoring that pang of guilt for littering because really, Kaneshiro should bow down to pick up _her_ trash, and heaves Ann up. It’s the most realistically feline Ann’s been yet, twisting around in her arms and squealing about being ticklish, but Makoto can manage.

She marches over to Akira and Yusuke and slips herself back into her well-worn stern president voice. “Both of you, get up. We’re leaving.” Ann’s giggling is ruining the effect, though.

“But I’m a model,” Akira whines. 

“No buts!” she yells and pulls Akira off the couch. He just grins like he’s so amused, doesn’t he know that this is really his fault? Yusuke gives her an irritated look for ruining his composition, so she yanks him up too for good measure. 

The four of them huddle together in one teetering mass, and they follow Makoto’s shepherding down the hallway with all the grace of alcoholic baby ducklings. Halfway through she finally finds Ryuji, splayed out on the floor and petting Morgana and an ATM – both wiggling their legs, but only Morgana looking pleased with the arrangement.

“Skull, please stop molesting the ATM. It’s time to…” she trails off into a sigh, “oh, you know what, I’m not getting in the middle of this. You two find your own way back.”

“I don’t wanna pet your face anyway, Doctor Doom,” he mumbles into the side of the ATM. She’s not sure who that is but she’ll have to smack Ryuji later for it, on principle. She continues on down the hall, until they’re far enough away that she can comfortably ignore his sudden screaming of _STOP BITING ME, CAT_. 

She has bigger concerns anyway, like how in the world she’s going to get these tittering kids through Shibuya without getting stopped by the police. She’ll have some choice words for them tomorrow at school, she knows that much.

Somehow, lying in bed that night, the only word that keeps coming back to Makoto is ‘fun’.

**Author's Note:**

> ( joke’s on them, shoulda saved that money for ten thousand cans of liquid placenta )


End file.
